Nothing and Everything
by BlueNoise
Summary: She was bloody and beaten. Not just her body but her spirit too. He could see it in her eyes. They were dead eyes. Rated M. Sort of post Inheritance.


**Title**: Nothing and Everything

**Summary**: She was bloody and beaten. Not just her body but her spirit too. He could see it in her eyes. They were dead eyes.

**Rating**: M

**AN**: I was feeling down. This is what I ended up with. Cheers.

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><p>"Eragon." He looked up from the scroll he was reading. Without Saphira around his hearing was only slightly better than that of an average human, despite his never changing half elf appearance. Still it irritated him that she had been able to creep up on him in this small cave he had begun to call home.<p>

"Arya." He whispered as he looked at her. Shocked to both see her in these parts of the land and by her appearance. She was bloody and beaten. Not just her body but her spirit too. He could see it in her eyes. They were dead eyes.

"Eragon." She breathed again, her words so full of pain. "Eragon. He's gone." He managed to get up in time to catch her as she fell. Searching with his mind he looked for her dragon but could not sense him anywhere. It had not really been needed – the look in her eyes told him everything – still he wanted to make sure. But her dragon was dead and gone.

"Please, Eragon. You are the only one who I can turn to." There was suddenly a knife in her hand and she quickly forced it into his half open palm. Then she stood on her own taking a step back from him. He knew what she wanted. It was what he himself had wanted for so long after Saphira had been murdered.

"I will not take your life Arya. If you wish for that, you will have to stick the knife into your own chest." He said it slowly as he looked into her cold eyes. He let the knife fall, knowing just as well as her if she bent to retrieve it she would not be able to stand back up. That she no longer even had energy enough left to plunge the dagger into her heart, even if she could find the true will and courage to do so, worried him. Still he knew, she did not truly wish to die, for else she would have already end it.

"Eragon, I need it to end...Eragon." She was pleading with him and it was just sad to see. She took a step forward and then she cried. Silent tears that just kept flowing down her cheeks.

He shook his head at her and reached out to unlace her leather vest. She didn't even move as he pulled it off her, nor when he cut her pants off with magic. She didn't seem to notice at all, until he began to use what little magic he still had to heal her more serious wounds. Then she slapped his hand away, but made no move to cover herself.

"Sit down." He said firmly, grabbing for her arms. Her eyes flashed for a second, proving there was at least some parts left of her that were Arya. Too bad those parts would have to die too for her to survive.

"You will not order me. I am Arya-"

"Arya queen of nothing, rider of nothing. Out cast by her own people. You are no-one, Arya. You haven't been a queen for decades and now you are not a rider any longer. You, just like me, are nothing." His words shut her up good and he could see parts of her accepting the truth of what he was saying. "So sit down."

She did as she was told and when he motioned for her to lie back she did that as well, looking at the stone ceiling like it was truly fascinating. Eragon let his hands flow over her body, healing the larger still blood oozing cuts on her arms and legs. Then he found a wash cloth and water.

"Do you still pine for me?" She asked as he carefully washed the blood and dirt off her lower legs. He didn't answer her, but maybe that was answer enough in itself. He slid the cloth up over her thigh and then up further.

He marveled at how she could look so much like she had over sixty years ago when he had first seen her unclothed while healing injuries inflicted by Durza. Since then he had seen many women nude, too many too count. Most of them had been beautiful, perhaps to the traditional man more beautiful than Arya. Her body was thin and athletic. While feminine by elf standards, she would never have the large bust most human women dreamt of nor their wide hips.

"Do you still want me Eragon?" There was a feverish edge to her voice and movement, as she grasped the hand he was holding the cloth with. Her grip was firm. His healing and her own abilities were letting her recover her strength fast. He didn't meet her gaze, but drew in a deep breath as she moved the cloth up to her naked breast.

"Stop." He let go of the fabric and with some force pulled his hand back. Her eyes, still dead looking seemed to harden even more if that was possible. Then she was off the low mattress and straddling him. He was forced to sit completely down on the stone floor.

"You do still want me Eragon. I can feel you." She let her pelvis trust against his, and her teeth brushed against his neck. He didn't move as she ground herself against him. It took her no more than a few seconds to notice he was sitting completely still and she pulled back slightly to look in his eyes. He knew if she did that he wouldn't be able to do what he had to. So he closed his eyes, roughly pushed her off him and got to his feet.

"You forget. You are nothing. Nothing to the world and nothing to me. " He said it softly but with a deadly calm he hoped would get to her. She blinked at him and nodded.

Her eyes went back to just looking dead and she got back on the bed pulling the thin blanket over herself.

"It's true. I am nothing now." She spoke slowly and Eragon looked up surprised. It had been minutes since he though she drifted off into her waking sleep. He didn't respond. "I am nothing." He heard her whisper again, this time only to herself.

It was true that to the world she was at this moment nothing compared to what she had been. To herself she was also now nothing. Only if she accepted there was nothing left of Arya the dragon rider, would he be able to help save her sanity. Still, it pained Eragon to hear her accepting the words. Because to him, she would never be nothing. She would, like she had been since the day Saphira died, always be everything.

**End**


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